when i softly lay my hands upon thee
thy body bends thy breath aghast
thou quiver at midnight reason flees
tis the time we meet at last

with crimson cheeks what once in creeks
now in the room o’ haunted house
in paper lay my modern vows
i rest my heart onto thy lips

i wrote thyself these words of love
that hanged my thoughts and robbed my feel
my boneless soul is bound to kneel
take the dazel start to carve

what thou doth would be witchcraft
but this wouldn’t matter to me
modern connections still keep us apart
like in the 17th century

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